


It's Not That Good Of A Truck

by achilleshoney



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Creepy, Desert, Gay, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sort of? - Freeform, Stucky - Freeform, The Author is Trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:55:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25867024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achilleshoney/pseuds/achilleshoney
Summary: Bucky and Steve have been on a spontaneous, week-long road trip. It certainly does not end the way they thought it would.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	It's Not That Good Of A Truck

**Author's Note:**

> I own none of these characters, nor any of this content. All rights go to Stan Lee (bless his soul) and Marvel Comics/Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Bucky pulled into an unfriendly-looking gas station with a blinking red and white sign that read GAS, MOTEL, AND TRUCK STOP. As far as he could tell, there was no motel. Only a dingy looking gas station that had three pumps, and it looked like the middle one didn’t even work. Bucky’s gut told him to keep going and find a different gas station, but his truck started to splutter. He sighed as he pulled into the far left pump and put the truck in park. He pulled out his wallet, counting the bills he planned on giving Steve so he could grab them some food.

The two of them had been on the road for six days, spontaneously leaving New York for a needed road trip. They only ate at restaurants and diners they’ve never heard of and slept in motels that broke every health code imaginable (Bucky shuddered as he thought about the wet, grimy towels they found stuffed in one of their closets). They didn’t have a map, or phone service half the time which had almost gotten them in trouble a couple of times. But either way, it had been the best week of Bucky’s life. 

The blond-haired man was sleeping in the passenger seat, his head resting at a weird angle on the seat belt. His complexion looked uneven from the busted lights of the station. His hands were under his thighs, his chest rising and falling calmly. Bucky gently shook him awake. Steve stirred and rubbed his eyes for a moment before looking around, taking in the rusty, gas station store front and quiet, dark desert beyond. He looked at Bucky and grinned sleepily. Bucky smiled back at the cute look on the smaller man’s face.

“Hey, you hungry?” Bucky asked, handing Steve his money.

“I could eat,” Steve replied, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat quickly and jokingly said “What’s on the menu? Generic brand chips and burnt coffee?” Bucky smiled again and nodded. 

“You know it. I’m gonna get gas, stretch your legs,” Bucky said feeling soft and leaning over to peck Steve on the cheek. Steve got out of the truck and walked into the gas station store leaving Bucky alone. Bucky began to pump gas into the truck. As he waited, he pulled out his phone to check if there was any service. A couple of texts had come through a couple of hours ago from his sister Becca,

**Are you still in Arizona?**

And their friend Sam,

**You better be back to work next week, I’ve been covering your ass.**

He rolled his eyes, not responding, assuming his own texts wouldn’t go through. He looked back at the pump, noticing the money counter was flickering between the numbers $20.55 and $30.65. Bucky ran his hands through his already disheveled hair, considering the idea of only driving for an hour or two more when his skin broke into goosebumps. He tensed and turned around instinctively. 

An old man was standing on the opposite side of his truck, peaking through the window at where Steve was sitting a few minutes ago.

“Excuse me?” Bucky’s voice came out strained. “Can I help you with anything?” The man glanced at Bucky and began to hobble towards him, coming around the front of his truck. He was limping, favoring his left leg, his clothes were stained a greasy yellow, and he reeked of what smelled like a wet dog.

“No, no, I just was checking out your car. Good truck, good car,” the stranger replied, his voice ruined by years of (what Bucky assumed was) drugs. Bucky looked at him a second more, taking in how scabbed his almost bald head was. He faked a smile and prayed to any god that was listening for Steve to stay in the gas station a little while more.

“Yes, thank you,” Bucky nodded right as the pump gave the signal that it was full. He put everything back into its place and stood still, wanting to go pay, but not daring to leave his truck. Bucky peered around the man to look for another car parked, possibly at the far right pump, but the spot was empty. The entire parking lot was empty. And Bucky could only see as far as the dim overhead lights reached (which wasn’t very far). He swallowed, his brain going through every situation his military training put him through that dealt with low visibility and a lot of sand. And an old, creepy druggie.

“I just thought…. Nice car, good car. Where you going?” the man asked, his eyes unblinking. The other man quickly thought of a plan and prayed to any god in the vast sky, for the second time that night, for it to work. 

“Actually, do you have a map I could use?” Bucky asked politely. The man smiled toothily and muttered for the tense man to wait, assuring him that he had one somewhere in his car. Bucky waited for the man to limp away to the opposite side of the gas station parking lot, into the darkness, before sprinting to the store to find Steve. He wrenched open the door and raced down every aisle till he stopped next to the checkout counter and hurriedly asked if the cashier had seen a blond man walk in.

“Why no…. No, hm, the small one?” Bucky could’ve gagged. He looked up, not paying attention a moment earlier, to see a younger version of the same man he talked to outside. This version had shoulder length blond hair and smelled even more like a wet dog. Bucky took a step back, keeping his face blank so the younger man couldn’t see how distressed he was. An unnatural moment passed between the two men, neither of them breaking eye contact, when another man came running towards Bucky.

“Buck, Buck, I-” Steve just barely stopped himself from crashing into the taller man. He was out of breath, his chest rattling, and his cheeks paler than usual. “We gotta- I-” Bucky didn’t even think when he immediately grabbed Steve’s hand and practically dragged him out of the store. Both of them threw themselves against the doors of the truck. They clambered in, Bucky fumbling for his keys, his hands shaking more than he would like to admit. He looked up for a moment, through the store windows to see the lights flickering.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky whispered finally putting the keys in the ignition and starting the truck. Bucky sped away as Steve grabbed his inhaler from his backpack and took a couple of puffs.

“Buck, there was something in the bathroom, but I can’t even-” Steve broke off, his voice shaking, staring straight ahead. Bucky’s mouth went dry, he swallowed a couple of times before he explained everything that happened.

~ ~ ~

Bucky drove down the same stretch of highway for the next three hours. Steve didn’t sleep the entire time. Neither of them had hardly moved. They couldn’t think of an explanation for what had happened and Steve got too worked up thinking about Bucky being alone with the strange man. 

Men. 

One man.

They didn’t know.

They were now parked in a very large, very bright, and very populated truck-stop, laying down in the backseat. Steve was laying on top of Bucky, his face tucked into his neck, their hands intertwined. Steve sighed peacefully in his sleep and Bucky finally felt his body untense.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi to the readers of this very amateur writing piece! I don't necessarily love this short one-shot? Whatever the fuck you want to call it. But I have ideas and I would love to keep writing and posting them. I need to improve as well so no better way to do that then write.
> 
> I was thinking, if anyone actually reads this, it would be really cool if you guys would leave prompts and ideas in the comments and I could make a modern setting Stucky series. I would give credit to the person(s) whose idea(s) I use. Just an idea. 
> 
> Hope everyone is safe! Wear a mask! Thank you for reading!
> 
> \- J


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